


The representative of nobody

by depresane



Series: Artist Nation - the 2020 revival [5]
Category: Object and Concept Anthropomorphism, Original Work
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Biting fingers, Confusion, Dermatophagia, Loneliness, Monologue, Post-War, Villains, Writing Exercise, compulsion disorder, dermatodaxia, draft, except singular
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26581306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depresane/pseuds/depresane
Summary: I challenged myself to write about loneliness while avoiding words like lonely, empty, solitude, or alone.It's supposed to be June 1945.
Series: Artist Nation - the 2020 revival [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1914001
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The representative of nobody

There was a noise in his mind, not auditory yet resonating; lumps of seconds passing, clogging his thoughts, causing restlessness in his hands. The same noise was disturbing his chest and drying his mouth. No weight pressing against a leather sofa but his own; he became aware of it. He shuffled his feet, bent his toes twice, finally stood up and rushed to his right, where a gramophone waited patiently for a shellac record.  
An opera piece soon filled the living room… at least, it tried. The singer’s bass, so overwhelming around the end-table, could not reach the sofa with the same power.  
He was biting his fingertips for twelve minutes, unable to pause even when the record ended. Nasty chewing stopped only after he bit too deep into his index finger. He stared at the injury, unfamiliar with its stinging sensation. No pair of eyes that could examine the bite but his own.  
He whispered, “I don’t understand. After all these centuries, all the battles, how is _this_ decade aberrant? What did I _do_ differently? My kids… My precious eaglets… Why are they offended? Why are they afraid?” He shut his eyes, weeping. “My fluffy chicks, please… Can at least one of you come here?”  
No voice to explain the situation but his own.  
Explain.  
No, denier. You already know why they feel unsafe near you.  
He whimpered. The noise within persisted.


End file.
